Married to the mafia boss Series

After lunch I started getting ready for my date. Carmelo sits on my bed as I sit at my vanity and start curling my hair.

“Do you have to go?” He asks.

“Yes. I can’t make him angry.” One of the downsides to having thick is hair, especially long thick hair, is how much time it takes to curl or straighten it. Straightening doesn’t take as long, but I forgot my straightener at Rocco’s place and only brought my curler with me.

“And you’re not coming home tonight?” I look at Carmelo behind me in the mirror, he’s frowning.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I sigh, “I know you don’t like this and I don’t like it either, but he’s a ticking time bomb. He gets what he wants, there’s nothing I can do to stop it. You know I don’t want to sleep with him.”

He clenches his jaw. “Can’t you say you’re on your period or something?”

I chuckle. “And what happens if he wants proof? What if he checks and sees no blood?” I turn to look at him. “He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t mind having bloody sex anyways.”

“God I want to kill him,” Carmelo growls.

“I know. I do too, but he’s a powerful, influential man and he’ll help the mafiosi accept Lazzaro as their new Don.”

“Can’t he find another way to have them accept him? Why use you? It’s not fair!”

“Being a woman in the mafia, isn’t fair,” I set my curler down and walk over to him. I cup his cheeks with my hands and tilt his head up so he’s looking at me. “I’ve learned to live with it. They call me The Cursed Widow, right? Maybe I’ll get lucky and become a widow again.”

“Yeah,” he gives me a weak smile, “Maybe.”

“I’m a big girl, Carmelo. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re not scared of… of what he might do to you tonight?”

“I’m more scared of dying,” I shrug. “I am just as nervous as I was with Luca. I survived Luca and I’ll survive Gaetano.”

“I don’t like this, Arabella,” he stands from the bed and says in a warning tone. “I don’t like the thought of him touching you.”

“There’s nothing you can do!” I shout frustrated. Carmelo goes silent. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’ve accepted my new fate,” a lie, “you have to, too.” Carmelo sits back down and doesn’t utter another word. He watched as I resume curling my hair.

When I finished my hair, I move onto makeup. I’ve always been a big fan of makeup. I love watching tutorials, I love makeup shopping, I love keeping up with all the trends and if I might say so myself-I am a fucking artist when it comes to doing my makeup. Even though I couldn’t care less to impress Gaetano, I’m not looking all pretty for him. I’m looking pretty for me.

Whenever I put makeup on and feel beautiful, I feel unstoppable. I need this little extra courage to get me through tonight. When I feel like a bombshell I feel like I can control and manipulate with my beauty. It’s an empowering feeling especially when in my life I’m not so powerful and in charge at all.

The dark smoky eyeshadow, red lipstick, and fake long black lashes go well with the off the shoulder, low neckline, sleek black dress I decided on. It’s tight fitting and reaches a few inches above my knee. Although most people wouldn’t pick black for their romantic date, I don’t care to be like most people. Black seems fitting for a date with a dark man.

“Do you think he’d let me come with you?” Carmelo asks softly. “You know… as your bodyguard?” He frowns and stares at the ground unsure of himself.

In my heels I don’t have go on my tippy-toes to kiss his cheek. I firmly press my lips against his cheek. The kiss is to reassure him and to also thank him for being there for me. For caring for me so deeply. I wipe the red lipstick off his skin and silently exit my room.

Just like he said, Gaetano is waiting in foyer at seven o’clock on the dot. He’s wearing a fitted black suit with a red tie, if I didn’t know how vicious he truly is, I would say to hell with the date, just take me to bed.

I walk elegantly toward him in my stiletto heels and he hold out his arm for me to take. I take his arm as he leads me out of the house and into the car. We both sit in the backseat, our thighs touching creating this weird electricity between us.

The car ride is silent, but words don’t need to be exchanged. Especially not when his hand keeps inching closer and closer up my thigh. I tense with each passing minute and I have to continuously remind myself to breathe.

We come to a stop and look out of the window to see a very expensive restaurant. The restaurant is surrounded by clean windows making it easy to see inside. The ceiling is high and full of crystal chandeliers. The waiters and waitresses are dressed in suits and nice dresses. The silverware and glasses are made of expensive fine china. The napkins used are cloth napkins that have exquisite patterns designed on them. Not to mention the material of the napkins looks like material that you would spend a fortune for.

Everything about the restaurant exudes class and rich-taste. If I had to guess the bill tonight would be four-digits long. When we take our seats inside we are escorted to a secluded place in the restaurant. The table is already set and there is red wine in the middle. I look at the brand of wine and already I know I’m wrong about our bill being four digits. He must’ve paid a fortune for the secluded room, the wine, and however much the food will be.

“Is everything to your liking?” Gaetano asks as he pulls my seat out for me, like a gentleman.

“Yes, thank you.” I nod my head and sit.

He takes his seat across from me and leans back smiling like he owns everything in the world. The waiter pours wine in both our glasses and then leaves us to our privacy. I’m quick to take my glass and down my first glass.

“This wine is meant to be savored,” he swirls the wine in his glass before taking a small sip and holding it in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. “I can tell you’re nervous. Let me ease your worries, I won’t let anything happen to you. I am a man of my word. When I say you are protected, you are protected. You have nothing to fear and I won’t hurt you.”

Yeah right, I almost snort. Instead, I give him a soft smile and raise my glass before taking a big gulp and not savoring it like I’m supposed to. I don’t care to be on a wine tour right now. I’d rather have a belly full of wine and food and hopefully pass out before Gaetano has the chance to get me in his bed.

Not that that would stop him.

“I have already ordered for us. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll like it,” he says with a cocky expression.

What a pompous, entitled asshole. I’m fully capable of ordering food for myself. I don’t care how good the food he ordered is, I’d like to have a little choice of anything right now. Him ordering for me is just another way to take away my littlest freedoms.

“You look absolutely ravishing,” he licks his lips and fixates himself on my cleavage.

“Thanks,” I say through gritted teeth trying to contain myself so I don’t explode.

“I think we might skip dessert tonight. I have something I’d rather taste even more than their cassata.”

I take another sip of my wine. This is going to be a long night. “What about my dessert?”

“Don’t worry, I have dessert you can try too,” His husky tone sends shivers down my spine.

The service is impeccable. Our food came in record time, which is good because I’m starving, but bad because the sooner this ends the sooner I’m going to be having dessert.

First dinner starts off with an appetizer of caprese salad and as we finished the dinner courses started. There is filet mignon, and a full plate of pasta with fresh homemade tomato sauce. It all looks delicious and half of the food I don’t really know what it is. I’ve never been a cook, never had the interest. One thing I do know is that this food is expensive, tastes amazing, and is definitely made of the freshest herbs and meat and other produce.

Gaetano grabs his cloth napkin and places it on his lap. For a man who throws temper tantrums and kills people for the littlest of reasons, from the outside he is a refined gentleman. His manners, the way he dresses and takes care of himself, he’s what every girl wants in a man. He even almost had me fooled, before he killed the butler I was ready to eat out of the palm of his hands.

I watch as he picks up his silverware and smiles at me before saying, “Buon appetito.”